Hope is not Lost
by Bracken-Fae
Summary: Set many a year after the war has been both lost and won. This war was between good and evil, but, after so many years, who is said to be good, and who is supposedly evil? I will say no more, for I wish it to be a secret. PG for safe-sidely ness.
1. Prologue

Ok, I started this a while ago, and then randomly had some more ideas and insp. For it whilst I was cleaning out my hamster. Don't ask. I finally thought of a name for it, and so I decided to do some quick typerating and put it up quick smart.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters you recognise, nor any of the settings. Mwah! Enjoy!

**_Hope is not Lost.

* * *

_**

Almost 83 years had passed since Harry Potter's final year at Hogwarts, 80, since the war had ended.

As I looked to the cot before me, over the many children bawling and gurgling and sleeping, one stood out. Dressed in pink, I picked her up and gently patted her back. Being a nurse in a hospital like that was sometimes very rewarding. Sometimes not. I checked the white tag around the little person's tiny wrist. Her name was Evelyn Mason. She was a beautiful baby, one that any parent would be proud of. When she opened her massive blue eyes and fluttered those eyelids, which were decked out with two rows of long, thick lashes, I swear I almost swooned. I almost felt bad. Sorry for what was going to happen. Stroking the small thing's cheek, comforting her, she reached up with a podgy arm and grasped my finger tight with her tiny right hand.

That was the day I broke the rules so severely, if I had been found out I would have had to face the worst punishment of all. Torture, then, of course, the ever-ominous Dementor's Kiss. What could I have done though?

I remember casting a wary glance, and, when Ruth, a co-worker had finally left for the toilet to wash up, I wrapped little Evelyn in my overall, stole to the back room and grabbed my cloak, frantically jibbering something along the lines of going home to see to my own 2 children. With that, I rushed out of the maternity ward of the hospital, and fled down at least four flights of very steep stairs, and out into the streets of muggle-london. I didn't stop to look at anyone's face, nor when I tripped, and skidded to an abrupt halt at the end of an alley-way a couple of streets down. There I produced my wand, and muttered a spell, and with a loud snap, disappeared from sight.

A few seconds later, I appeared outside my own house. I un-wrapped the child from my cloak as I stepped inside the house. My children ran up to me, I greeted them fittingly and then quickly led them into the living room, and lay the baby down on the sofa. They all gasped when I told them they had a new baby sister. I remember how Tom, the oldest of my children (he was actually 5 at the time) asked what Daddy would think. I smiled reassuringly and told him that I was sure Daddy wouldn't mind another mouth. Just as long as she didn't grow up to be like Marie, the middle child, who was 3, and be a complete chatterbox, I was completely sure that Daniel (my husband) wouldn't mind. Of course when he arrived home that evening, he got a major shock, but he recovered with a little- no a lot – of coffee with extra sugar in. I told him that I had had to call in on an orphanage, to witness the birth of a 15 year olds baby. I felt awful just leaving this little child there in those conditions, and so brought her home with me. Of course Daniel didn't notice that she was more than 12 hours old, he doesn't usually notice that kind of thing.

Evelyn fitted in so well that when she got her Hogwarts letter, I cried along with her, and hugged her, and almost forgot she was not my own. But of course, the threat of someone finding out is still there, and on the 31st August, I went to bed apprehensive and longing for a deep, dreamless sleep, which, recognisably, I was not granted. I had done wrong, but this child was so like any other, she knew our ways inside out, but in knowing this, was in fact betraying other children like her all over the globe, children who would not live to see their uninvited-ness in this world. She was not then, and never will be a bad child.

Never mind what the Minister says, this Muggleborn is not bad, and I, a pure blood, will do all in my power to make her fit in as much as possible.

* * *

And I've corrected a few mistakes, because I was going to add some but thought it more appropriate to put it into the second chapter. See ya there! 

Ok, what do you think? Sorry it was un peu (a little, I keep breaking into random interludes of French here) short, but twas but a taster. More to come! Review and it will come sooner! Promising here! W00t! and as always, thankyou for taking the time to read this, I really appreciate it, and hopefully it'll be worth the time you have spent on it. Biiiiiiii (and night night… sooooo tired)


	2. Chapter 1

Ok, I'm back and I'm ready for updater-age! I got some ideas whilst cleaning the bathroom (again… this seems to be my place of inspiration… I shall have to spend more time there.) Aaannyhoo, seein' as its half term an' all, methinked I could update this story quite quickement. And with the French again. If that could be called French. Well I said it in my head with a French accent. So RR guys!

****

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the settings or characters that thou recognizes. Though I would be interested to see who reads these things anyway… except me…**

**Chapter 1**

**….**

**Four years to the day from that night which I spent in complete and utter agony - physically as well as mentally – and here I am yet again. Every year is the same. Wake up with a new-born chip on my shoulder, screaming and wailing like the babies I deal with every day, and as the day progresses, the seconds act as years to the little chip, and it grows and matures, until, at the end of the official worst day of the year, I've got a moaning old granddad chip on my shoulder. This humungous chip can't sleep either, so when I go to bed, my head hits the pillow, and all of my body (except the shoulder with the chip on) wants to shut down and go into log-mode. As in sleeping like one. But alas, it is not to be. The chip will keep me awake with its cynical old-chip views of life and, more depressingly, of what is to happen to my little Evelyn when she goes to school. She's not really little anymore. She just turned 15 in July. Tom's grown up and flew from the nest, he now works at a factory somewhere which markets Philibuster's Fireworks. Marie's now 17, and has been offered places in fashion schools everywhere, entitling her to a higher education designing _or_ modelling. We're all so proud of her, and she is the closest thing to a perfect role model for all my girls. Our Marie has been through a great deal more than you would expect one of the 'beautiful people' to go through socially, but has stayed true to herself in so many ways. The last child, Hermi (short for Hermione) whom I didn't mention before, is probably the most talented young witch I've ever come across. At just turned 15, she is book smart, but not particularly street wise or sociable. I suppose it's getting the balance really, although she and Eve do have an understanding which could be termed friendship. The whole family is proud of both our 'legitimate' girls, both in different ways. Hermi is Ravenclaw's female Prefect, a feat which I personally am so very proud of, as it seems to be getting harder as the years go on. I'd always wished to be the cleverest witch in school, seeing as I was lacking in the gorgeous-ness department. I never got that far with it, though, because there were always other things which I perceived as more important. I have since realized it was because of a truer vocation in life- children. But I digress. **

**I am roused very early from my 'asleep' state by none other than the subject of my muddled thoughts on September the 1st, so I can cook 'her royal majesty' breakfast - as she puts it. Daniel grunts and rolls over in his sleep. No doubt he did the log thing, with no fried foods clouding his sleep one little bit. **

**….**

I remember the first few years at Hogwarts as a blur, the first year oddly clearer than the latter years, probably because I was separated from my book smart sister, me into Slytherin, and her into Ravenclaw. I remember her telling me something about century-old tensions between my house and that of the Lion-hearted Gryffindors, but I can't say as they exist anymore. Yeah, we all have our flaws, yet somehow, now, everyone is equal in a way. My relationship with Hermi is so strange. During the school year it weakens, but, quite obviously, at home we are closer than ever. A lot of the time we have massive sleepovers with all our friends from all the different houses. Mostly it's Slytherin and Ravenclaw, although there are Ruby Sweet from Hufflepuff, Mandy Harmanez, Olivia and Grace Chestnut from Gryffindor as well. It's all girls; neither Hermi nor me would ever dare to invite a boy to our house. This makes it hard to stay in contact with some of my boy-friends, and the couple of 'boyfriends' that I've had over the years. I'm not really close to any boys, and neither is Hermi. Not that I would know, she places a lot of things closer to the vest than I do. Although my thoughts aren't particularly revolutionary, and I prefer to just straight out tell someone if there's a problem, because I believe that 'a problem shared is a problem halved' or something not quite so cheesy. But anyway, this year is going to be much different from the rest, because one of the things I have vowed to myself to do is to keep in contact with my dear sister a little bit more. At least then I'll know what's really going on between her and Alex Bogsworth. He is so not deserving of her affections.

I arrive at the Great Hall, gazing up at the starry-ceiling, it seems to have been getting darker earlier and earlier recently, something which it doesn't usually do at this time of year, but ah well. It gives me something to look at. I quite like making patterns out of the stars. Carol, Amelie, Lucifer and I all take our seats at the long table, but, as I'm busy staring at the stars, I get stuck on the end, a placement I neither like nor am used to. It is Lucifer and I that keep the conversation going, Lucifer with her wicked humour and I with… I guess just that I can keep talking no matter what. I learnt that little skill off Marie, and utilise it frequently now that she's gone away. It annoys the hell out of my parents, because, in their eyes, the only good thing about losing Marie is that she won't be forever nattering on. Hah is what I say. Looks like Carol will be the talkative one tonight; I'm not quite up to it. Too many late nights. I absent-mindedly yawn, and look instead to the person sitting on my right-hand side. The other three are conversing furiously, Carol and Lucifer already into bitching about some Hufflepuff, while Amelie is doing her usual job of calming them down and trying to make them think about some of the mean things they have said. She's a darling like that, Amelie. She has a beautiful gift of seeing the good in people, and believes strongly that everyone has a good side. Although she didn't get into Slytherin for that. Oh, no. Once, Lilac Slightly called her the most awful name, and, of course Lucifer and Carol were in there straight away. They called her so many things back, Carol shouting meaningless names back at her, and Lucifer coming out with slightly more witty comments less regularly. Carol is very good at blindly insulting people. She picks up on things very well, and registers them for later ammunition. That's probably the only thing her and Lucifer have in common, that and their ability to bitch no matter what the hour or circumstance. But Amelie sat there, coolly, and, although she didn't stop them like she usually would, her brain had formulated the most devastating plan. This plan utilised the old proverb 'what goes around comes around' and boy did it come around. It hit Lilac slap bang in the face like a mallet too, and didn't stop there. The cruel pranks went on unchecked virtually all year, Amelie slyly getting away with it each time. Each one required many hours of planning and some involved us. We had to be absolutely precise, or it would be our heads. Eventually Amelie stopped, after her good side took over once more and she saw what she was doing to Lilac. She later told me that she never regretted doing what she did, but felt slightly mean about it. Needless to say no one bothered crossing her again. I asked Hermi to track Amelie's lineage, to see if what Lilac called her was true or not, and luckily it was just a stupid name whipped up on the spur of the moment. Amelie would have no friends if people were to find out it was true.

The boy next to me was quiet, but was sitting with a lot of his friends. I knew they were his friends because I had seen them in past years, all together, but he wasn't usually this quiet. He seemed to be staring at his plate non-stop, as if the few specks of dust littering it were the most fascinating jewels he had ever seen. Although seemingly so engrossed in his plate, he sensed my gaze and managed to tear his eyes away from it.

"You gazing into your crystal… err… plate?" I asked, shrugging off my would-be-wittiness. He gave a little chortle inwardly.

"Sorry. A lot on the old brain." Was his reply. I had expected a little more, and when he realized this, he opened his pink little mouth and began a short explanation. "My mates have been hassling me all day, but it's just one of those things I'd rather keep to myself."

"Better out than in, is what I say. I'd find someone I could confide in and then drown them in gory details. But that's just me personally. It's not me to not have my opinion out there."

"Yeah, I'd noticed. You're Eve Salamander, aren't you?" He asked me, his eyes narrowed. I didn't find it odd that we hadn't formally met before, I don't know a lot of people, although many know me by face, as I'm considered to be quite loud.

"Yeah." Now was my chance to show that I knew who he was. I'm sure that my friends have talked about him in the past, in the year above us, that's it… Luke… no… it's an odd sort of name, begins with an 'L' though… He'd got me. I couldn't think of the name, and I smiled apologetically after a few moments frantic name-searching.

"Lysander." That's it! I knew it began with an L… anyway; I became aware that he was still talking. "Yeah, a lot of people forget because it's such an odd name. Most others remember it for the same reason though." He gave one of those thousand-watt smiles, you know, one of those pure ones which only a few people have. They always seem to brighten up your day. Tom's got one of those. Dunno where he gets it from though… I grin back.

"Well I'm sure I won't forget it now… Lysander Shortfoot, right?"

"Yeah, that's it. Glad you remembered." He was just about to continue when Professor Dusthorpe cut across us. I was mighty peeved at this, he was a major hottie… anyway, he started his beginning-of-the-year speech, and I pretended to Lysander to fall asleep. He gave a stifled laugh as Professor Macintosh; the Head of our House gave us a little glare, which made it all the more funny. I was just about to carry on with this train of thought, when Dusthorpe mentioned something which tickled my fancy sufficiently. I got sucked in to something which turned out to be very trivial, he had just phrased it well so that it would catch the attention of people like me, completely un-interested. He carried on with more, extremely boring facts, and the Sorting Chair was placed on the platform on which the teachers sat. The Sorting Chair is what tells you the house you're in, it enchanted to spring to life and walk the person sitting on it to their table, thus proclaiming the House that that first year is in. It is quite frightening when it suddenly springs into life, scuttling quickly and quietly across the floor, and many are petrified of it. The Care of Magical creatures' teacher, Professor Magda, sat down at a newly conjured grand piano, her voice magically magnified so that she could sing in accompaniment to the School song. Her voice echoed for a few seconds, and then the rest of the school (excluding the terrified first years) boomed along with her. It hardly sounded like a choir of angels, I can tell you that for free, although I could hear Carol's all-mighty voice at some points, stronger than the rest, because she has a brilliant singing voice and she knows it. Most of the boys who were friends with Lysander just mouthed the words, but, surprisingly, Lysander joined in, although he definitely couldn't join the ranks of Carol just yet…

So the First Years were sorted, we got an over-excited blonde girl with a lisp, and a few others who just squeaked when spoken to. I felt really sorry for the poor little mites. I glanced over and saw Hermi dealing with an over-confident first year, who was being desperately bolshy, and even though Hermi is used to quite small children (in the summer holidays we help out at a local nursery) she was finding it very difficult to cope. The stress was evident on her face, and I made a distinct mental note to make a remark on the highly attractive shade of purple she was turning whilst he carried on about how he was going to do in school.

….

As I was sitting in my dormitory, (I don't particularly like being downstairs in the common room when it's this busy, so I come up here with my friends. Somehow I feel different to everyone else when I'm in a big crowd of Slytherins like that; we can be so snooty sometimes. But I guess everyone feels the same.) We were engaged in a midway interesting conversation, which I felt would have got better if not for the smart looking owl tapping on the window, a raggedy piece of parchment wrapped around its leg. At first I wondered why the parchment was so soggy and bedraggled, but then I realised it was raining, and also, it didn't matter, because Amelie, being the animal rights protestor she was, had let the bird flap in through the now open window. I rushed to close it again as a gust of wind blew a good few drops of rain into the room, and the magnificent bird settled itself on my bed and ruffled its feathers importantly. Lucifer pounced on the unsuspecting creature (not literally) and practically tore the letter off its little leg. (Her parents don't send mail very much; they separated and are too busy bitching at each other to notice her.) She greedily took in the posh parchment, and swiftly turned the envelope over and gobbled up the name and address on it. She realised her mistake at once, and carefully put on her casual face, her 'nothing's wrong with me' face. She lazily tossed it over to me, not saying anything. I knew that she would do this, but I didn't expect the letter to be aimed in my direction, I only just sent my first owl of the year, I wouldn't have got a reply just yet, and this owl didn't belong to anyone I knew. Now it was my turn to examine the mysterious piece of paper hungrily. I basically massacred the envelope in my attempts to get in, and soaked up the words on the paper gratefully whilst standing on Amelie's bed waving the paper out of the other's reach. We shared our room with 3 other girls, all with quite different personalities, but all enormously likable. At the moment they were downstairs making merry, so we had the Dorms to ourselves. Except I was supposed to be going now, the letter turned out to be a summoning to Dusthorpe's office. All I did was cross my fingers and hoped to dear Voldemort that I wasn't already in trouble.

….

OK, so how was it guys? I intentionally put some direct quotes from one of the Harry Potter's or other, and made similarities because, well, you know. It adds a little extra. Or so I think… RR!! I hope that I'm not giving too much away too soon… but I can always go through and correct if I am… tell me people!!!

Lotsa love and appreciation 4 readin my fic (whether u thought it was worth the time and effort or not)

Bracken xxx mwah!


	3. Chapter 2

Sheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee's back! Anyhoo… I shouldn't be so hyper… I'm ill! Well kinda. So I'm using this chance to be inspired. Well kinda.

It's the day of indecisiveness! Enjoy!

Discalimerooo: Don't own Hogwarts. Man these things get tiresome… 

* * *

Dusthorpe's office hadn't changed since the last time I'd been in there. Still full of whirring little gadgets. It was a very busy, confusing room, somehow comforting and menacing at the same time. Like your grandmother's house. Not that I've ever seen my grandmother or anything, never mind her poky little cottage wherever it was. I say 'was' because she died a while ago, just before I was born or something. Mum's talked about it before, but only just answering the many questions Hermi plagued her with when we were little; they (my Mum and Grandma) had a fight or something I think, and never made up. Anyway, the first circular little room led into Dusthorpe's office, a slightly less overrun room with a few portraits on the walls, although there were bright patches where there had obviously been frames before. Dusthorpe was seated behind a slightly dishevelled desk filled with papers, looking at me through his bright blue eyes. He smiled a reassuring smile upon my entering, but I was still convinced that I was in trouble. I lingered around the red leather high-backed armchair, not sure whether it would be impolite to sit down. Last time, I walked in and was whisked straight away to lie down on the desk, so that Dusthorpe could examine my sub-conscious. I was having bad dreams when I first came to Hogwarts. Anyway, he indicated for me to sit down, and I happily obliged, I was feeling rather faint at being in here again… this place almost gave me the creeps, and I could almost sense what was coming. The feeling of _almost_ knowing everything yet not was driving me mad. I hate mysteries, well, ones that I can't solve anyway. I was unsure of whether I should start off the conversation, but the silence which he seemed to be relishing was killing me. He gazed at me with those twinkling eyes and just made me feel so small. Eventually I cracked.

"So um… that owl and everything, you must have been pretty desperate to see me." Not the most respectful thing I confess, but still, it broke that dreadful silence. He took a deep breath, which I took as a signal that he was arranging his words carefully in his head, planning before he spoke. Not something I do very often. After a pause, which may have been considered 'awkward' if I hadn't known that he was most definitely going to speak soon, he spoke a simple sentence, not enough to quench my thirst of … I guess it could be called knowledge. Yes, knowledge of why the hell I was there.

"I just wanted to sort of prompt you along, make sure your studies are up to scratch this year."

"Um… you mean you want me to try harder, that I haven't been doing well enough?" I hate it when people told me half the story and left the rest to my negatively working imagination.

"No, no, no." he replied, looking at me dead on in the eyes. I'm not sure whether I was surprised at this, worried, or happy that he finally seemed to be talking _to _me rather than just… talking. A lot of pupils say they find it unsettling how he never, ever makes eye contact. Now I know what it feels like and I wasn't sure if I wanted to complain next time he didn't. "It's just that we've been looking through everyone's work over the holidays, and all the teachers I confronted about your personal work said that it was absolutely perfect, except perhaps lacking in that it wasn't the most enthusiastic work. You need to be properly motivated, Evelyn." Just that use of my full name, rather than Eve or Evey whilst his piercing gaze was captivating my own, less 'cold as stone' one, sent an involuntary shiver down my spine. I vowed that I would be motivated just for the sake of not having to come back here to have this talk with him again. I didn't even take in the mega-compliment I just received as I stumbled, freezing, out of the old man's office, repeating my goodbyes and excusing myself hurriedly. I almost ran to the Common Room, and was more than pleased to see the would-be snobby faces of all my Slytherin comrades. I lurched up the stairs, trying to hold down what felt like an enormous snake trying to slither its way up my oesophagus. Upon bursting into the Dorms, I found all my friends sat in a circle, playing Truth or Dare, my favourite in the whole world. They immediately saw my pale face and that I was involuntarily holding my stomach, and escorted me to the bathroom, where I crouched over the porcelain toilet, while Amelie rubbed my back lovingly, softly pulling my long hair into a messy ponytail at the nape of my neck. Carol plagued me with questions, and Amelie ended up shoving her out of the small bathroom calling her many a very immature name. Lucifer managed to stay calm, but later quizzed me non-stop until I charmed a zip on her mouth and drew the hangings on my four poster – a sign that I had had enough for one night.

The next day the official school year began. As usual we were handed our schedules over breakfast; I had Ancient Runes first with Professor Dekod. He was a crumply old man, whose wrinkles did actually look like ancient runes. Lysander plonked on to the seat next to mine, trying to casually peer over my shoulder to see what I had that day. I raised my eyebrows, snatched his out of his hands and replaced it with my own. He scanned over my schedule, his eyes flicking from the end of one line to the beginning of another. He finally focused on one subject, formulating a sentence in his mind.

"Bummer. I didn't know you took Arithmancy; I hadn't pictured you as the type." He looked up, hoping for me to elaborate. I shrugged; I wasn't sure what else to say. So, in true 'me' fashion, I simply stated:

"I'm a very un-picturable type." He gave a small chortle, when I noticed that his friends were nowhere to be seen. "Where are your friends? I can't see them." I leaned forward and swished my head in both directions to indicate looking for them.

"I'm not really sure. They got slightly err… drunk last night. Beginning of term spirits and stuff. They do it most years. I usually join in, but I want to try harder, you know, make sure my studies are completely up to scratch this year. Thought I'd make a good impression and everything." He sort of trailed off, not realizing how interested I actually was.

"Coolness. Hey, I'm trying to do the same thing this year… um… you know, get my studies up to scratch. Maybe we can study together sometime?" he didn't have time to answer, because an extremely annoyed person sat heavily down in the seat next to mine. I assumed it was Lucifer being huffy because of something on her schedule, and turned to see not Lucifer, but Hermi, sporting the extremely fetching purple tinge to her face that she had worn yesterday whilst being plagued by that small and seemingly annoying first year. I was in shock. This had never happened before, and, for the first time in a while, I was at a loss for words. Hermione took a deep breath, counting rationally to ten, before addressing me.

"I think… that if that little…" (She stopped herself from saying something she would regret here; she was always good at that) "If Adam keeps persisting with his annoying endeavours, then I think I'll be forced to throttle him. Very severely." She took another calming breath. "Poor little mite." Lysander looked confused and amused all at the same time, and I, seeing his face, got even more amused, and finally let out a little giggle, to which Hermi looked even more miffed. She seemed to want to get her own back then, because she decided to add "Oh, who's this, your boyfriend?" I promptly stopped giggling and quite obviously blanched. He didn't seem to have heard the last bit and introduced himself almost too politely. The other three from my dorm turned up, looking worried to see me so pale. They bustled round, saying hushed 'hellos' to Hermi.

"Evey, are you OK? I mean… you're up really early, and you look so pale… are you feeling better?" Amelie put her palm to my forehead, and Carol put some dry toast on my plate.

"Am I missing something?" Hermi asked, perplexed. Lysander had turned away, but was casting worried glances over every now and then.

"Evey wasn't too well last night… Dusthorpe asked her into his office and she came back and threw up everywhere." Carol said, none too tactfully.

"We still haven't established exactly what it was that set her off like that…" Lucifer said, looking as if Eve was forgiven for the zip out of worry. They must all have been completely riddled with worry if this was the case, and Eve hastened to tell them exactly what had happened. Most of them decided she must have been overreacting, but after breakfast, Hermi cornered her on their way to Ancient Runes (it turned out they had it together) and asked if that was all that had happened, because if no-one else at Hogwarts knew Eve, Hermi did. Being her sister, she quite obviously knew that Eve had a very strong stomach, so something awful must have happened to get her to throw up. Even for all her quizzing, Hermi still wasn't convinced that Dusthorpe hadn't said or done something horrific. But she decided to half-believe Eve, and took in her description of feelings in happily, making notes in her head. They arrived at the Ancient Runes classroom, and Professor Dekod welcomed them all in together. Hermi and Eve took seats next to each other in the middle of the classroom. Not too close to the front, and not too close to the back- perfect for absorbing knowledge. Of course they both shut up upon entering their classroom, as Hermi had always taken her class work seriously and Eve's new resolution to be good and concentrate was still fresh in her mind. The lesson flew by, and Eve tried to put up her hand as much as possible, getting all the questions she answered right, and adding her opinion to a lot of them, a 'good part of any subject' as Professor Dekod had complimented after the lesson when he called her back to congratulate her on her excellence. After accepting the extra credit homework he offered her, and collecting the slip that granted her permission to use the restricted section library books in her studies, she blushed, mumbled a thank you and hurried out the room, so fast she managed to bump into Lysander, who was heading to Transfiguration as she was bustling to Potions.

* * *

I'll be back soon with another chappie though! I think I'm gonna go do some of Return to Sender or something… see ya!

And I know they don't really do extra credit in England, but oh well. Tough cookies.

Thanks for reading, Bracken xx


End file.
